"Why so sad?"
I turn to him, catching the sincere concern in his deep blue eyes. A few strands of his white hair drift across his wrinkled forehead in the breeze of the air blower. His face peers out at me in a sympathy I can't quite grasp.
"Sad?" I ask, Not quite. Just.. thinking." My voice trails off, and I attempt a half smile as his look of concern faded into one of question.
"Yeah, Portland. Final destination Vancouver."
I could barely form my lips around the word before flood of lost memories overtook my conscious and pressed me far back into my rigid seat. Spirally into what I was actually doing to myself, I swallow.
"Something like that." I replied, turning towards the repetitive blue skyline.
"The best kind." I said, realizing he wouldn't let me slip back into my blank stare.
I shook my head, digging for the right words to explain my destination.
"My boys." I said suddenly, mostly to myself but he caught the words as they fell out of my mouth and raised an eyebrow, notcing my empty ring finger. I stared just past the ridge of his freckled nose, and let that subtle grin slip onto my lips.
"Look hon. We've got 10 more hours of sitting next to each other. I don't get to hear many new stories. Enlighten me." I caught his eyes again. A transcending sapphire. I let a deep breath glide out of my lips and sunk back into my chair, realizing I had nothing to lose.
"Jonny and Carl. My best friends through highschool. It was always more then that though. They were my life support, my promises, my love and my driving force. The term best friend cannot even begin to contain the capacity of my love for the both of them. I'm still not sure how things ended up this way. After graduation, everything fell apart. I needed to see the world, they needed other things. The miles grew too long, the hurt too much. We parted and made our own ways towards self-discovery. But really, I think all I ever needed to know lied right between the,. What devotion truly meant. What selflessness feels like. Heartbreak, euphoria, happiness, depression, empathy, growth, it was all there. All the things it takes a lifetime for people to capture I had between my fingertips the whole time." I paused, trying to find the next thing to express.
"My name's Walter." Perfect old man name. He offers a weathered hand out for mine. I shake it. He hesitates before pulling away his hand to resting his lap. Something like a memory clouded his eyes for a moment, but he turned his attention back towards me.
"The best way to start a story, is at the beginning." He said, noticing my struggle with the tale.
I smiled sheepishly.
"Summer before freshman year. That's when things got complicated. I was 14 and my idea of love was 2,000 miles away, spending his summer in California with his Dad...